


Four Million Sleeps 'til Santa

by Clea2011



Category: Primeval
Genre: Christmas, M/M, Trapped on the wrong side of an anomaly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 21:28:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clea2011/pseuds/Clea2011
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor and Becker get trapped on the wrong side of an anomaly, and it's Christmas Day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Million Sleeps 'til Santa

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deinonychus_1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deinonychus_1/gifts).



It wasn't quite the way Connor had envisaged spending his Christmas.

Admittedly, working at the ARC meant that you could never really make elaborate plans for Christmas or any other holiday, but still it would have been nice to have had the day at home in front of the fire, opening presents and eating dinner with Abby, Sid, Nancy and Rex... and Jack, who Abby had invited for Christmas because he didn't have anywhere else to go.

Perhaps that last bit wouldn't be so good.  Jack and Connor were never going to get along very well, and Jack had already made a few pointed comments about Connor not going home for Christmas.  Also he was hogging the TV remote, and eating things that Connor had hidden at the back of the fridge as Christmas treats for himself... he might possibly have let Abby have some but he certainly had had no intention of sharing with Jack.  And now Jack had eaten most of Connor's stash.  Connor had hidden a tub of cheese footballs and a box of Cadbury's Heroes under his bed, but he suspected it was only a matter of time before Jack found those as well.

Jack, after all, had several days to wander around the flat and help himself to anything he fancied, while Connor had to go to work.  Jack didn't work.  Jack didn't seem to do much of anything, really.  Bearing that in mind, perhaps spending Christmas day somewhere other than the flat wasn't such a bad thing.

The trouble was, the only other person on the main team who had been on Christmas Day callout duty was Becker, and he was very, very grumpy about it.  Apparently his mother's dinners were legendary, and he'd only just arrived at his parents’ place when his phone had gone off and he'd had to turn round and go straight back to the ARC.  He'd already told Connor several times that he'd only had the barest _sniff_ of that dinner, and that it had smelled delicious. 

At least Becker's mother would probably have saved him some dinner and heat it up for him later.  Most likely it would be a _huge_ portion, and only the best for her darling boy, because of course Becker's mother would adore him.  Becker had that smug look about him that Connor always associated with a home life where you were encouraged to be the best you could be because you were the precious offspring of loving and nourishing parents.  Connor thought everyone probably had more loving and nourishing parents than he did.  He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a Christmas with them.  The one the year before he'd come out to them, probably.  They'd not had a lot to do with him since then.  He'd been looking forward to spending this year with Abby and the pets, it would be a bit like having a proper family.  And then Abby had invited Jack, and suddenly it had all seemed a lot less exciting.   Connor had no doubt that his own dinner would be devoured by Jack, and that he'd be lucky if there was even enough left to make a turkey sandwich.

Not that any of it mattered now.

He hadn't meant to go through the anomaly.  After all, everyone knew that led to all sorts of trouble.  Professor Cutter had come back slightly mad... or slightly madder than he already was... talking about a woman who didn't exist and then rambling about being in the wrong timeline.

Connor wasn't sure that Cutter had been mad.  He thought there was something in it.  And now he might find out for himself.

It wasn't so much that Connor had been clumsy, more that he'd tripped.  The tree root had been mostly hidden and it could have happened to anyone.  And sometimes the anomalies did close very fast.  It didn't mean that Connor was a walking disaster area or anything.  It was just the way things were.

That wasn't a theory that Becker seemed to agree with.  Becker had already told him exactly what he thought of Connor's clumsiness.  And his own lack of dinner.  Several times.

Becker scowled at him from the other side of the cave that they'd found to shelter in.  He had followed Connor because Becker was a hero, and that was what heroes did.  And now they were both trapped because the anomaly had closed and they were about a billion years in the past and it was all Connor's fault and they'd missed Christmas.

Becker wasn't at all happy about it.  He was probably worried that he was going to go back to an alternative world where he had a mother who couldn't cook.  Or didn't dote on him.  Or both.  If Connor went back to a world where Jack or his parents didn't exist, he wouldn't lose much sleep over it.

"It's bound to reopen soon," Connor assured Becker with more confidence than he actually felt.

Becker made a noise that sounded quite a lot like a contemptuous snort of disbelief, but made no other comment.

"I could go and find us something to eat?" Connor attempted. 

Becker raised an eyebrow.  "Or find a hungry dinosaur something to eat instead?  They're quite fond of blithering idiots who stumble through anomalies, I've heard."

"I didn't..."  Connor thought about it, then shrugged.  "Okay, I suppose I did.  But I'm sure we've arrived after the dinosaurs, and even if we haven't I've studied pre-history for most of my life, Becker.  I'll have a better idea of which plants we can eat than you will."

"Carrots?  Roast parsnip?  Swede?  Sprouts?"

He was going on about it again.  Any moment now Connor was going to have to listen to how Becker's mother did the best roast parsnips in all of the home counties. 

"Whatever." Connor got up.  "There's a river, I'll see if I can catch a fish."

"Connor, you couldn't even catch a cold.  Come on, I'll catch the fish, you can round up the vegetables, though even if you find any I don't know what you think we're going to cook them in.  And _don't_ wander off.  We don't know what's out here."

Becker might be good-looking, but he could be really mean when he wanted to be, Connor thought.  Being stuck in the past with him wasn't as much fun as Connor had once thought it might be.  But that was back before he actually got to know Becker.

"I didn't ask you to follow me," Connor muttered as he reached the entrance.

"No, but it's my job.  Come on."

Becker walked quickly off down the hillside.  Connor hadn't worked out exactly which era they'd arrived in yet, but judging by the lack of dinosaurs and the lush vegetation it wasn't pre-Palaeogene or post-apocalyptic.  So, their odds on surviving were better than they could have been.

Captain Grumpy reached the river, which he was quick to point out was really only a stream, fairly quickly.  Connor had to jog to keep up with his long strides, and wondered if it was done deliberately just to emphasise how useless Becker thought he was.  Naturally, Becker then chose an excellent spot on a flat rock in the middle of the stream, waited patiently ("Don't even _breathe_ , Connor!") and then suddenly struck.  A large fish was flailing briefly on the end of the makeshift spear that Becker had cobbled together out of a straight-ish branch and his knife, then was still.

Perhaps it wasn't the greatest spear, because it fell apart under the weight of the fish and Becker barely stopped both knife and fish falling back into the stream, but it did the job.  Becker threw the fish to Connor, rolled his eyes when Connor fumbled the catch, then tied the spear back together again.

Connor wanted to protest that the fish was wet and slippery, but decided Becker would just think of something else unkind to say, so kept quiet, holding the smelly thing at arm's length and watching as Becker homed in on a second fish.

The trouble with Becker was that he was always so damned good at everything.  No, the trouble was that Becker _knew_ he was so damned good at everything.  And that he was really quite remarkably conceited about it all.  The cocky git held up the second fish triumphantly, grinned far too smugly at Connor... and promptly slipped off the rock into the stream with a yelp of surprise.

Becker was back on his feet almost immediately, dripping wet all down his back.  Connor wondered whether he should offer Becker his hand to help him out, but the thunderous expression on the captain's face suggested that it wouldn't be welcomed.  So Connor stood back as Becker emerged, still holding his knife with the fish on it though the rest of the spear was rapidly heading downstream.

"Oops?" Connor attempted hesitantly.

"Give me the other fish, Connor," Becker ordered.  "Then start collecting firewood."

It really was going to be a miserable Christmas dinner, Connor thought as he trudged around picking up any dry pieces of wood that he could find.  Behind him Becker was gutting and washing the fish, making sure it was all done well away from their little cave so that predators weren't attracted to the smell.  Not that it would make much difference.  Connor could smell the fish on himself; they'd probably stink of it for days.

"Connor!"

Becker sounded annoyed yet again.  Connor's shoulders slumped, and he turned back to look at the captain, wondering what he'd done this time.  But Becker didn't look angry, he looked worried.  And he was looking not at Connor but at something to his left.  Slowly, knowing he wasn't going to like what he saw, Connor turned to look.

It was a huge sabre-toothed cat.  There might not be any dinosaurs around in this era, but there were certainly some vicious mammals.

"Pleistocene..." Connor breathed, the scientist in him unable to stop himself working out the era they were in.  Unless they were a very long way south, it had to be near the end of that era as well, otherwise it would be a lot colder.  And it was useful to know.  It meant they only had about twelve thousand years or so to wait before they were back in their own time.  They would be tiny grains of sand by then.  Atoms.

Except Connor was going to be atoms that were all mixed up with sabre-toothed cat, because the vicious-looking smilodon was only a few metres away and was eyeing him up, preparing to pounce.

"When I tell you to, Connor," Becker's voice was very calm.  Too calm.  "You'll run back to the cave and make as big a fire as you can.  And you'll stay there, behind that fire until I get back or until the anomaly reopens."

"But..."

"Just do it."  Becker was slowly getting to his feet, picking up the fish.  The movement distracted the creature's attention away from Connor.  "Now, Connor!"

Connor hesitated, frozen to the spot.  The cat was watching Becker now, eyeing the fish.  Becker swung one of the fish off to the side, away from both of them.  The creature watched it go, but didn't move.  Becker and the other fish were apparently more interesting.

Connor heard Becker curse softly, then carefully repeat his action with the remaining fish.  Again the creature watched it fly past, but made no move towards it.  Becker, his arms covered in the scent and blood from the fishes, was far, far more interesting.

"Get out of here, Connor," Becker ordered again, his gaze never leaving the creature.  "Carefully, no sudden movements."

The cat wasn't interested in Connor at all.  He could take a step backwards and be ignored.  But there was no mistaking the fact that the creature was poising to spring at Becker, who was armed with only the knife and a handgun.  His trusty shotgun was lying just out of reach, where Becker had carefully laid it before going fishing, not wanting to risk it in the water.   

Becker raised the handgun just as the smilodon leapt at him, hitting it twice but not managing to stop it.  The creature crashed into him, knocking him to the ground.  Connor didn't wait around to watch, racing over to grab the shotgun and fire, over and over until the chamber was empty. 

"Becker!"

The soldier was covered in blood but whether that was his own, the smilodon's or the fish's remained to be seen.  The heavy creature had collapsed on top of him and it took Connor and Becker's combined strength to remove its body.  When they rolled it off Becker, Connor could see the knife jammed into its throat.  Becker wouldn't have gone down without a fight.

"Thanks," Becker said.  "That thing nearly had me."  He went to wash the blood off in the stream while Connor went looking for the fish.  Miraculously they were still where Becker had thrown them.  Presumably nothing was going to go near whilst the predator was there.

Becker walked more slowly when they returned to the cave.  He'd got a gash on his shoulder from one of the teeth, and several rips in his uniform from the claws.  While Connor baked the fish over the little fire, Becker was trying to administer first aid on himself.  Connor let him struggle for a few minutes, then left the fish and went over to help him.

Seen close up it was a nasty cut.  The antiseptic wipes in the small first aid kit were better than nothing, but not by much.  It bled a lot but Becker made Connor apply pressure and eventually it stopped.  Connor managed to bandage it up.  Becker looked a little peaky, and was certainly cold in his wet clothes.  He'd started shivering a bit.

"You know you're going to have to take those off, don't you?" Connor plucked at the sodden combat trousers.  "They'll dry in the sun if we leave them out at the front of the cave."

"Pity it can't shine in here.  It's bloody freezing!" Becker grumbled, but stripped down to his underpants anyway, then shuffled closer to the fire.  The fact that he accepted Connor's jacket when it was offered spoke volumes about how cold he actually was.  It wasn't particularly cold, all things considered, but after the soaking in the stream it was going to take Becker a little while to warm up again, especially in the cool cave.  Connor sat close, wondering if Becker would hit him if he offered to share body heat.  It was always difficult to tell with Becker.

The fish was still cooking over the fire and Connor was keeping an eye on it.  The last thing they needed was for their dinner to burn after all the trouble they'd gone to getting it.  It was starting to smell good though.

"I could go and get some more firewood," Connor offered, seeing Becker was rubbing his limbs to try and warm them faster.  There were goose bumps on his legs. 

"I'll be fine.  You'll only stumble across another creature that's looking for a dinner date."

Unfortunately that was probably true.  Connor lifted one of the fish off the fire by the long thick stick they were cooking it on.  It was charred, but as they weren't going for any cookery prizes he supposed that didn't matter. 

"Do you think it's done?" He handed the stick to Becker, and rescued the other fish for himself.

"Good enough," Becker confirmed.  He pulled a piece off, yelped, and dropped it.  Fortunately he managed to hang onto the main part of the fish.

Connor waited with his until it had cooled down.  The fact that the stick had still been glowing when he pulled it from the fire really should have warned Becker, he thought.  Probably hungry as well as cold.  That was confirmed a moment later when Becker rescued the fallen piece of fish, dusted it off and ate it.

"Gross."

Becker shrugged.  "If we're stuck out here for a while we're going to eat worse thing than that, Connor.  It's only a bit of dust."  He chewed on the fish for a few moments, then swallowed.  "Not the worst Christmas dinner I've ever had."

"Really?" Connor raised an eyebrow.  "I thought you said your mum's dinners were the best?"

"They are.  But I've only managed to get home a couple of times since I joined the army.  I thought this year, based in London and in an organisation run by civilians that I'd be able to be with my family."

"But you put yourself on callout.  You're the one who does the rosters."

"My men want to be at home with their families too.  For the same reasons I did.  And it was callout, there was a good chance nothing would happen."

"And now you're trapped here, and it's my fault."  Connor felt awful.  He'd never considered that Becker might actually want to sit back and relax with his family, even when there had been all the complaints earlier.  Somehow he'd thought that was all about the food and not a lot else because he'd seen the way Becker and his men could shovel down supplies like there was no tomorrow.  Maybe all he wanted was a hug from his mum just like anyone else.  It was totally at odds with everything he knew about the captain.  But perhaps that wasn't very much.  "Sorry."

Becker shrugged.  "It's done now.  And anyone could trip over.  I slipped over in the stream.  At least you managed to stay dry.  Eat the fish."

Connor broke off a piece of fish and tried it.  Chewy, because they'd overcooked it, crunchy because of the charred skin, but altogether not bad.  He decided that he didn't want to know what Becker had experienced as a Christmas dinner in the past if this was better.

"What did this interrupt for you?" Becker asked.  He wasn't being as snappy now.  Connor wondered if he'd been saving himself for his mother's epic feast, and his hunger was what had been making him extra-snappy.  "Parents?"

"Abby was cooking dinner for me and Jack."  He watched Becker grimace at Jack's name.  Abby's sibling didn't have any fans in that cave.  "My parents... well, I don't see them much.  My brother has a wife.  So they prefer that to risking me bringing some bloke along."

Becker probably preferred that as well, he thought.  He waited for Becker to edge away from him, but it didn't happen.  He just sat there, staring into the fire, chewing on the very chewy fish.

"Sorry, Connor," he said eventually.  "That must be hard."

"I'm used to it," Connor shrugged.  But he wasn't.  He didn't think he'd ever be used to it.  "Jack's probably eaten my dinner by now though."

Becker rolled his eyes.  "He's an idiot.  If we get out of here in time you're coming home with me.  Mum always does far too much, they'll be eating turkey for a week.  So she won't mind an extra mouth to feed.  And if she hears about the homophobic poor excuses for parents that you've got, she'll probably want to adopt you."

“Really?" Connor almost dropped his fish.  Becker was being _nice_ to him.  He must be really, really pathetic. 

"She's already got one gay son, she can cope with another."

"No, I meant the dinner... hang on, you haven't got a brother.  Have you?"

"I thought you were supposed to be clever, Connor.  No.  I mean me.  Didn't you know?  Don't people talk any more?"

"Not about you.   Probably too scared!"

"Or I just pick my men well.  I suppose if they're broad-minded enough to accept what we do for a living, everything else isn't exactly shocking."

Trust Becker to make it a self-congratulatory thing, Connor thought.  Though it was true.  It was probably why Connor loved working at the ARC so much, their whole situation was so odd that the things he'd been hounded for most of his life really didn't matter.  His geekiness was almost encouraged because of all the inventions it delivered up.  And his sexuality was irrelevant. 

Becker had finished his fish and thrown the stick back on the fire.  He shuffled closer to the fire, still apparently quite cold because he held out his hands to warm them for a few minutes, then went back to rubbing his legs.

"I could help..." Connor offered hesitantly.  "You know... body heat?" 

Becker looked at him appraisingly for a moment, then nodded.  Connor scuttled closer then rather awkwardly hugged him.

"I thought the past was supposed to be warmer," Becker grumbled, though without any malice.  "What happened to all the deserts and sunny valleys Cutter kept rambling about?"

"Different time," Connor explained.  "And Professor Cutter didn't ramble.  He was brilliant." Connor hated to hear anything negative about the man who would always be a hero to him.  "We're in the Pleistocene."

"Really.  Perhaps we can model cartoon characters."

"Funny.  It's the ice age.  We're probably somewhere in the Americas, most likely South given the climate.  It could be a lot colder than this."

"Wonderful.  We'll probably freeze to death overnight then."  Becker moved closer.  He was, Connor thought, almost snuggling.  His skin was freezing.  "You're warm."

Being the only warm thing for miles around was probably the only way Connor was ever going to get someone like Becker to cuddle up to him, he thought ruefully.  Still, best to enjoy it while it lasted.  The sun was starting to go down.  Soon they'd have to gather more firewood for the night, and decide what to do about Becker's clothes.  He'd be better off wearing them, but they were going to still be damp and it was likely to be a very cold night.  Becker had already refused to have them over the fire because he was convinced Connor would trip over and set fire to them.

"We should get some more firewood," Connor suggested. 

"In a minute.  This is nice."

Okay, Becker was obviously affected by the cold and the trauma of the attack more than he was letting on.  He'd slid an arm around Connor's waist and somehow his face had become pressed against the warmth of Connor's throat.  No, strike that, Becker's _mouth_ was pressing against Connor's throat... that was a definite kiss... and his hand was starting to find its way under Connor's t-shirt...

"Becker..."  Connor pulled away.  "What are you doing?"

Becker raised an eyebrow.  "I thought that was obvious."  He moved back in to resume the admittedly very pleasurable action, but Connor was determined to keep him back. 

"We work together.  If you want to scratch an itch, wait till we're home then find someone that doesn't work with you or doesn't care if they're a one night stand.  Been there, done that, don't like it and _don't_ ask."

Becker sat up, running a hand through his hair.  It fell back exactly into place, just like it always did.  "Sorry.  But just so you know, I wasn't scratching an itch, as you so eloquently put it.  I was... I like you, Connor."

"You've got a funny way of showing it.  Always shouting at me, telling me I'm stupid."

"You're a genius.  But you could use a little more common sense sometimes.  I'd rather not be picking out your remains from the teeth of some predator.  You wouldn't take any notice if I didn't shout."

Connor knew that was true but he wasn't about to admit it.  He was well aware that there were just the two of them, and unless Becker wanted to go in search of the original humans (who would be little better than apes) there wasn't going to be anyone else around to shag for a very, very long time.  And he knew he could easily get far too attached to Becker, only to have it thrown in his face as soon as they stepped back through the anomaly and the handsome captain was faced with a wider choice of partners.

"It's just because I'm the only one here, and we both know it."

Becker sighed.  "No, Connor.  I came through after you."

"You'd do that for any of the others.  It's your job, you said so."

"I'd probably leave Danny," Becker admitted.  "But he can look after himself.  You, on the other hand..."

"I shot that smilodon."

"With my gun.  And most of my supply of ammo.  But yes, quick thinking.  I still don't think you'd last long out here."

"At least I've kept my clothes dry!" Connor pointed out. 

Becker laughed, which was a rarity in itself.  "Yes, well done.  Come on, if you're not going to be any fun we'd better get that firewood because it's going to be a cold, cold night."  He got to his feet and Connor tried not to watch Becker's half-naked body as he walked across to the cave entrance and picked up his clothes, grimacing as he pulled them on.  "They're better, but still very damp.  Here," he handed Connor his jacket back.  "Thanks."

Connor didn't take it.  He was looking past Becker, down into the little valley below their cave, where there was a familiar and welcome sparkle of light.

Becker followed his gaze, but didn't waste any time staring.  "Come on!"  He grabbed Connor's hand and they ran down to the anomaly.

Nothing was coming through it, which was a good sign.  The last thing they needed was a herd of raptors to suddenly appear.  Becker stopped right in front of it, holding out his hand to block Connor from going through as well.

"Slowly.  Get ready to jump back if it's not our time."

Connor was panting too much from the run to comment, and simply nodded and followed Becker through.

It looked very much like the twenty-first century.  The half-finished Barratt homes development on the other side of the road gave that much away.  It looked, in fact, very much like the same one that had been near the other anomaly. 

"Don't trip on that tree root again," Becker warned, nodding towards the tree in question.  "I think we might be back.  Nice of everyone to wait around for us in case it reopened."

There wasn't a sign of any of the ARC team. 

"Probably all at home eating their Christmas dinners," Connor pointed out.  "They'll be really pleased to get called out again."

"Hopefully.  Let's see."  Becker made a call back to the ARC, and from what he could hear of the conversation Connor gathered they had arrived back only a few hours after leaving. 

"Perhaps Jack won't have had time to eat all the turkey yet!" Connor grinned when Becker came off the phone.

"I thought we'd agreed you were coming back with me?"

Connor paused, thrown.  "But... even after I gave you the brush-off?  Which, incidentally, you're probably glad I did now."

"I'll just have to try harder.  But yes.  You're getting mum's Christmas dinner.  You'll love it.  And then, if you want to play hard to get, I'll take you out.  On a date.  Several dates."

Connor's heart gave a little flip of delight.  He still wasn't entirely convinced, but it sounded pretty good.  And Becker did seem to be a man of his word, even if his words were usually being bellowed out at top volume in his very posh accent.

"And you'll stop shouting at me?"

"Only when we're not at work."

It was a start, Connor supposed.  And dates.  Actual dates instead of a quick shag after a hook-up in a club or somewhere.  Even meeting the family, although that wouldn't be as an actual boyfriend, but it did look as if that might be just a technicality.  Connor beamed happily.  Christmas might have been a near-disaster, but it looked as if the new year might be very good indeed.

Becker leaned in for another attempt at a kiss.  This time Connor didn't fight it.

The ARC team who turned up a little while later let them know exactly how entertaining they found it, at least until Becker shut them up.  Connor was feeling far too warm and happy to care.

\-----

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Deinonychus_1 as part of the Primeval Denial Secret Santa fic exchange. 
> 
> She wanted cuddling, food prep/eating together, one of the pairing worrying about the other for some reason.  
> 1) Their Christmas plans are thrown into disarray and they are forced to improvise and make the best of it.   
> 2) An anomaly call out at Christmas.   
> 3) Absolute trust.   
> 4) Christmas on the wrong side of an anomaly  
> Couldn't manage to fit in no 3 but I think I've got the rest of it. Happy holidays! :D


End file.
